September, 2025 – Hazzaton, Asia Pacific
Prax – Whoa, did you seriously become S-rank? This is your hundredth dungeon, right? That's… insane.
Kalen – (chuckling) Man, it's not like the stories make it sound. People write that in manwas because it looks cool. But you know how it really works. Being S-rank just means I've been through a hundred dungeons. Experience, not power.
Prax – (wide-eyed) A hundred… that's…
Kalen – (interrupting) Stop counting like it's a level-up. In our world, the numbers just describe the scale of experience. S-rank? A hundred dungeons. Double S? Two-fifty. Triple S? Five hundred. It's boring, mostly. Just long corridors, weak creatures, and maps. That's it.
Prax – (nodding) So… these dungeons existed forever, huh? They've shaped the cities?
Kalen – (walking, glancing around) Yeah. Cities grew around dungeons, because life thrives near them. Go too far, the soil turns dry, plants barely grow. People adapted. Hunters exist to map, study, and secure dungeon materials. Creatures? Mostly harmless. Slow, dumb. Easy to kill if one shows up.
Prax – (gripping his semi-blaster) And these weapons… normal humans can use them?
Kalen – (smirking) You can make someone bleed, give a concussion… maybe scare them. But a dungeon creature? Dead in seconds. These are just tools, not magic swords.
(They walk deeper into the dungeon. The corridors narrow, the air thicker. Finally, they reach the core.)
Prax – (pointing) What… is that?
(In the center, a hand-shaped rune glows faintly. Strange letters float in the shadows.)
Kalen – (frowning) Can't read it fully… it says—
Rune – "Do not understand yourself. Do not understand your meaning."
Prax – (uneasy) That's… cryptic.
Kalen – (shrugging) Probably meaningless. Dungeons like to play mind games. Let's head back.
(They turn. Kalen suddenly stops. His eyes widen. The air stiffens. A black mist erupts around him.)
Prax – (screaming) Kalen! Wait!
(In an instant, Kalen's body disintegrates into skeletal fragments. Prax stumbles backward, panicked.)
Prax – No… no, no, no…!
(Cut.)
Outside the dungeon – a small cafe, afternoon.
(V sits alone, idly rolling a piece of bread between his fingers, tapping a fork on the plate. He's distracted, half-playing with his food, half-watching the street outside.)
V – (muttering) Maybe I should just eat it already…
(He pops a bite into his mouth, finally.)
(Suddenly, his gaze flicks to the dungeon entrance in the distance. A figure comes running, panicked, dust trailing. The man stumbles into the cafe and collapses near V's table.)
Cafe Lady – (calling) Someone! Help him!
(Everyone else ignores him. Only V and the cafe lady remain.)
V – (leaning back, unimpressed) You look like you've seen a ghost.
Prax– (gasping, clutching his chest) …It… it's… the dungeon… K-Kalen… he… he's… gone!
(V's expression shifts ever so slightly. He leans forward, intrigued.)
I am listening go on